


Tenets of a Hero

by Farsong



Series: Exulansis [2]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Family, Friendship, Gen, Post-Canon, Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:15:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27083971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Farsong/pseuds/Farsong
Summary: In the aftermath of the second Darkest Day, two Gym Leaders and two heroes have to decide what they want to do with themselves.
Relationships: Beet | Bede & Hop, Beet | Bede & Mary | Marnie, Hop & Yuuri | Gloria, Mary | Marnie & Yuuri | Gloria
Series: Exulansis [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1630846
Kudos: 28





	1. Continue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Marnie prepares for the future.

As it turned out, taking her Journey year at fifteen instead of the traditional fourteen was an excellent choice: for one, it meant that she wasn't likely to outgrow the clothes she bought on the way. For another, it meant that she feels old and strong enough to properly chew out ~~Piers'~~ her Gym Trainers; she appreciated their support during the Challenge, she really did, but training Dark-types doesn't automatically mean she endorses cheating to win. And no, the Motostoke mess doesn't count.

A major downside, however, is that Marnie now has to think about her educational future.

While being a Gym Leader is hard work, it's an irregular job; now that the League season is over and Piers has officially handed over the Spikemuth Gym to her, she doesn't have anything scheduled aside from training until maybe the Championship tournament in May. Spikemuth's lack of a Power Spot saved it from any real damage during the overloads on the Darkest Day and her showing in the Cup managed to bring in some sorely-needed revenue, but there isn't anything helpful she can really _do_ in the moment.

(Aside from sew Morpeko a tiny little hat from art class leftovers she had lying around, that is, because the Cup puffed up her ego like nothing else and she _insisted_ on receiving a special reward for making it that far.)

Therefore, her thoughts turn to education, which she still has to attend if she wants a day job in the future. Marnie spends the first week of April looking through her notes and exam scores from last year: she did well in maths, art and Kalosian and alright in Galarian, geography, practical crafts and Pokémon biology. What can she do with that?

A pure maths track doesn't sound fun, and she's not interested in science or geography beyond passing curiosity. Languages aren't much good on their own, but she has enough of a talent for them that work on the mainland would be possible in the years her Gym wasn't on the major circuit. Marnie remembers being told that Galarian is needed for a lot of university courses, so she might as well go for it to keep her options open. And that's not even including the possibility of crash-coursing something completely new...

(For all her bro's talent, Marnie can't carry a tune to save her life. Following in his footsteps was a no-go from the start.)

Marnie spends three weeks waffling over her choices and gets nowhere, so she sets it aside for now and focuses on whipping her new underlings into shape. She honestly considers firing the lot of them for the mess they made during the Challenge, but the Spikemuth Chamber of Commerce had cut the Gym's budget due to their actions and she doesn't know if she has the money to replace them.

She still needs a punishment, though, and settles on making the needed reparations out of her Gym Trainers' paychecks. Bikes and uniforms stolen, shipments obstructed, vandalism of hostels...the list went on and on, and now Marnie has to deal with it. Thanks, guys.

Piers starts sending her postcards from his impromptu concert tour in the middle of it all - Hammerlocke, Stow-on-Side, Ballonlea - and sends pictures his audience took along with them. He seems brighter, the bags under his eyes less consuming, and he's still wearing the three-point-circle choker she made him for his birthday. It's nice to know that her bro's doing well.

While managing the chaos, though, she began to think about what to do with the Gym itself. In years where his Gym Trainers didn't go rogue and start locking down the town, Piers favoured a "rousing" game of Pokémon-only (after he got sick of the injury complaints) Obstagoon tag for his mission, but she didn't want to be accused of being a copycat.

Gloria's challenge was a straightforward gauntlet of Team Yell members that seemed to go over well, so maybe she could use that? But people don't remember the simple challenges. They remember Stow-on-Side's pinball and Circhester's traps - if Marnie wants to consolidate her position, she needs to come up with something _good_.

* * *

"I'm not entirely sure either, if we're being completely honest." Bede sips from his mug of what he claims is perfectly safe mushroom tea as his brow knits in thought. "Ballonlea Stadium has been under Ms. Opal's reign since the fifties, and her absurd quizzes are a staple by now. The circuit at large has never known anything different - I certainly have the funds to try a few things out, especially with HIJIKI OKA's recent successes, but the problem is where to start."

Marnie had first met Bede when he was being harassed by Ivy and Martin in January: Bede himself was barely paying attention to the opposition's dramatics, but his Hattrem whipped out a Dazzling Gleam that dropped both Liepard and Linoone in a heartbeat and sent them scurrying away in defeat. She had approached him to make her usual apologies for their actions, but he had barely seemed to hear her, instead being shoved onwards by Ponyta while Hattrem waved at her from his shoulder.

She hadn't put much thought to it at the time, rushing to make up for the time she lost in the disaster that was Motostoke Stadium, but Stow-on-Side was buzzing with gossip when she looped around to take on Allister and it didn't take long to glean the whole story.

She got it, kinda; Marnie'd definitely done some stupid stuff after the accident, trying to get her bro to pay attention to _her_ instead of the stupid music he dived into to cope. When she made it back to Ballonlea after shredding Allister on her first try (by Arceus was it good to be back in the groove), Bede had been sitting in the darkness beneath the stage, the tiniest Eevee she'd ever seen parked in his lap like they owned it, and Opal herself was not subtle about grilling him on observed strategy between rounds.

They'd established a brittle friendship after Opal shoved them together for bonding, solidified when Marnie snuck Bede into the finals for his dramatic attempt at retirement in exchange for him spending half of March helping her train a Grimmsnarl for the Cup. So when she hit a roadblock in her future plans, she decided to head up to Ballonlea for dinner and conversation.

The Glimwood Tangle produced a dizzying variety of weird mushrooms, cultivated by the locals: in another of Opal's endless attempts to culture her apprentice, today's meal was homemade risotto in suspicious neon pink.

"I've the opposite problem," Marnie says as she feeds a bite to Toxicroak beside her; they've let their Pokémon out into the mission area, and they're behaving themselves so far. "The idiots my bro left to me made the Chamber so mad that they've sliced the Gym's fundin' in half, and we didn't have that much to start with. Did you make it as far as Spikemuth?"

Toxicroak takes a few seconds to chew, hums to herself and then gives Marnie the thumbs-up; she wipes the fork on her napkin and eats a few bites, discovering it to be only slightly burned as Bede shakes his head. "Joshua and the bozos put the whole place on lockdown. Nobody could get to the Gym until I showed up to let them in the side entrance - Gloria was stuck for a week, and I think Dunne and Deneb were there even longer."

Bede's lip curls as he reaches for his plate, chewing over the thought along with his food. "I'm unsurprised. Surely they must have expected reprisal once their identities became known?"

"You'd think that, yeah. But no." Marnie winces. "They were doing it all for me, and I didn't even ask them to - Piers put on a show the night before I left for the opening ceremony, told the town to cheer me on as I 'went out to make them proud'. I think they all just took him way too seriously, and they ended up goin' too far because of it."

Her last statement was pointed, and Bede has the grace to flinch. "That...it's understandable, I suppose. Regardless, it doesn't change the problem at hand. Have you tried looking to history for inspiration?"

Reuniclus bobs over for pats, squidging himself into Bede's curls until he concedes defeat and reaches up with a free hand. "Yes, fine-according to my research, Ms. Sylvie insisted that her challengers act out scenes from her favourite plays, and Ms. Faye before her operated a musical rendition of Spot the Difference; the prevailing theme over the years seems to be that of show business, hence the area." He gestures with his fork to the stage they're sitting on, the dramatic background, the lights overhead (and Reuniclus copies every move, forcing Marnie to stifle a snort).

"I get that," Marnie replies, watching Liepard use her tail as a feather toy for Eevee. "But I've really not got much in the way of history to go on. Spikemuth's never had the funding for any of the fancy stuff, and League-approved Dark-type Gyms are rare worldwide 'cause of the stigma-"

Bede snorts. "Oh, don't talk to me about stigma. Do you know what the gender ratios are in Fairy-type training? Ballonlea has only had two other male Leaders in its entire history, and all of my inherited Gym Trainers are women; Laverre on the mainland is hardly better. The bias is simply absurd." He lifts his plate out of the way as Reuniclus glorps down into his lap for more efficient petting. "It seems that we've both chosen difficult fields of expertise."

"Definitely." Marnie nods. "Piers had to fight the League to keep the Gym runnin' when Deirdre retired, and you get the feeling that half the reason we won was because they wanted there to be a Gym for every type." She stares down at the half-finished risotto, trying to identify the source of the faint glow. "I'm not sure if Spikemuth'll manage to stay on the major circuit, honestly, so there might not be much of a point in it. Team Yell was hell for our PR, and my bro skippin' out on the opening ceremony didn't help." The intact mushrooms, maybe? She passes the plate to Toxicroak, who doesn't even bother with cutlery as she starts wolfing it down.

Silence reigns, punctuated by Scrafty's cackling as Eevee gets her Bite into a suddenly-regretful Liepard's tail. When Marnie looks over, Bede's eyes are unfocused; he's messing with the sleeve of his compression shirt, and his bare wrists resonate with something inside her. "Maybe we're both going about this the wrong way," he says. "Thinking about what the public wants to see from us, looking to the adults before us to decide the path we take. Maybe-"

And then there's a scream.

Eevee, young as she is, had evidently gotten too rough for Liepard's liking: they both snap their eyes up to catch her being swung into a wall by her firmly-clenched teeth, rebounding off and releasing Liepard's tail as they both shriek in pain.

Gothitelle steps in before either Leader can move, suspending Eevee in midair with a lazy flick of her hand; Liepard slips over to Marnie to hide from a furious Mawile while Bede bolts to his feet, a startled Reuniclus barely hanging on around the waist.

_'Comfort your idiot daughter, Bede.'_ Gothitelle projects, depositing a wailing Eevee into his arms, and though he sputters at the terminology he takes to the role with the ease of practice, whispering to her as Gardevoir glides over to set off a Heal Pulse if needed.

Dark-types, on the other hand, are unable to benefit from that, so Marnie whips out a few probably-not-mouldy Sitrus Berries from her last trip to the Wild Area and lets Liepard nibble on them while she inspects the damage. The same-type resistance and the strength disparity between a three-month-old and a Champion Cup veteran makes it insignificant, but Liepard has been a drama queen for as long as she's known her and seems determined to milk the attention for all it's worth.

Case in point, she swoons into Marnie's lap the moment she bends down, forcing her onto her butt as she demands consolation in the wake of her terrible ordeal. "You're an idiot too, you know. What if Mawile thought you were goin' too far and decided to really Play Rough you up?"

Liepard yowls in dismay and butts her head into Marnie's chest. As she concedes to the need for petting, she watches Grimmsnarl and Rapidash step in to prevent Mawile from causing any more damage; robbed of a physical target for her ire, she settles for a staring contest instead.

"What were you about to say?"

Bede looks up when Marnie opens her mouth, a much-calmer Eevee humming in his grasp. He blinks. "Excuse me?"

She gestures to the sudden chaos, to their dinners abandoned on the stage. "Before everyone started yellin'. Something about how we were thinking too much about what everybody else wants?"

Nodding in affirmation, he moves to sit down with her. Reuniclus detaches to go bother Morpeko - who kept eating throughout the whole mess and has started on the others' abandoned meals - and Gardevoir drifts away with the aim of rescuing her food, leaving their Trainers and the injured parties in a little bubble of peace.

"I believe I was speaking about the effect others have on us. We spend so much time working to please them, for reasons of our own-" he winces, Eevee reaching up to bat at his shirt, "-that sometimes our own nature can be lost in the murk. My training in Ballonlea gave me plenty of time to contemplate my conduct, and how misguided I became in the pursuit of something that did not exist. Why did you participate in the League Challenge?"

The non-sequitur causes Marnie to pause, taking a moment to think. "Well...I was always gonna, I think. My bro said in an interview once that he was just holdin' the Gym for me, and everyone at home expected me to follow his trail." Bede stares her down as Eevee tumbles out of his lap, and she's sure that that's not what he means.

"But once I was out there? I met Gloria and you and the rest, saw the sights, caught some Pokémon - I nearly tapped out in Motostoke, that Centiskorch was a killer. I tried to skip Kabu altogether, you know? Opal and Allister were havin' none of it. But that's when I thought, _I want to do this_. I wanted to be Champion, wanted to stand on top of the world: not as Piers' sister, not as a Spikemuth's Leader, but for me. Nobody else." She smiles. "I told Gloria that. In the semi-finals, I mean. I think she got it."

Liepard lifts her head as Eevee bumbles closer, and holds still as she reaches out a paw and baps her on the nose. Liepard blinks-and then huffs air into Eevee's face, causing her to fall over backwards and squeal with delight, everything forgiven. Bede smiles, watching the two, and: "You've changed, I think. Since I bumped into you on Route Six."

He tilts his head, still observing their Pokémon, and nods to himself. "I do believe I have. We must continue to move onwards, to become more than what we were. And we must do it for ourselves. Otherwise, what is the point of being?"

* * *

The "point of being". Well, at least Bede's pretension survived Opal intact.

Surprisingly enough, his advice did help her get her head on straight. Marnie has until October to pick a Gym mission - providing she stays in the major league, and she _will_ come hell or high water, she's certain on that much - which gives her five months to work something out. She shows her grunts the worryingly-small budget and sets them to brainstorming for the last two weeks of April, giving her time to get her affairs in order before training begins in earnest.

Marnie is just _barely_ old enough at sixteen to avoid having to apply for a child performance licence, with the training and Gym maintenance counting towards the work hours she has to put in to legally move into part-time education. Piers is still off on his tour - he sent her a postcard from Turffield on the twenty-ninth, saying that he was going to be putting on his last show on Saturday, complete with an exhibition match to help pay for renting the stadium - so he won't be able to help with any paperwork until he gets back. It's a pain, but she's glad that he's having fun.

In the meantime, she goes over her options, which boil down to tertiary education or an apprenticeship. Spikemuth is tiny, so the closest tertiary options are Hammerlocke and Circhester - where the long commute could prove to be a massive hassle, since she can't move away from her Gym - but there's apprenticeships with local places like the Chamber and Jetsetter that might end up playing hell with her Gym time during the Challenge season, if she can't swing a decent deal.

In an attempt to keep her options open, Marnie makes a trip west for the open day at Hammerlocke University on the second of May; it's a shame that it's the same day as her bro's concert, but what can you do. Arriving early gives her time to stick her nose in the boutiques, where she finds a cute Grimmsnarl t-shirt and an awful boater hat that might just help her blend in.

It doesn't work: on the way to the campus, a little girl with an Impidimp gets run over by two men sporting tailored suits and ridiculous hair who refuse to apologise even under the weight of Grimmsnarl's glare. They dodge around him and make a break for it while she helps the girl to her feet, who identifies her after a moment's scrutinisation and immediately asks for an autograph. As she leaves, Marnie hears her tell her partner that they'll beat her when they're big enough for the Challenge. Huh.

But the stadium explodes with crimson darkness, and Marnie has bigger things to worry about.

Raihan and his Trainers can probably deal with whatever's going on in the stadium without her - you don't get to run the eighth Gym without displaying tons of skill - so Marnie helps with the evacuation, emptying the central ward in record time and keeping an eye out for any falling brickwork.

The skies darken as a familiar-looking Pelipper soars overhead, eyes rolled back and bulging unnaturally as it begins to swell; Scrafty shot-puts Morpeko into the sky, already wreathed in whirling lightning, and they take him down before he gets the chance to Dynamax as crashing stars fill the stadium with light.

(She sees what might be Hop and Gloria's Corviknights, ripping a mad Abomasnow down to size; she _knows_ that that was her bro's ponytail in the crowd, running towards the chaos instead of away from it. But she has her own problems to deal with, and trusts that they can look after themselves.)

Scrafty threatens the weakly-thrashing Pelipper into stillness with a fist full of thunder, giving Marnie the chance to pull an unrefined Wishing Star (?) out of his beak and stuff it in her bag. Freed from its influence, he calms down enough to be moved; soon after, the clouds clear, and Grimmsnarl drags him back to Hammerlocke Stadium as a grateful Sam-no, _Sebastian_ , that was his name-comes to collect his fallen Pokémon.

The university isn't in the evacuation zone and Piers looked busy, so once Hammerlocke calms down she puts her team back in their balls and heads for the open day. It's still on, luckily, and Marnie gets free snacks into the bargain: the university offers a scholarship in partnership with the League that's tailored for student Gym Leaders, which makes any education fees a non-issue. She looks into a few courses that seem kinda interesting - applied Kalosian, contemporary art, Galarian history and literature - but she's already missed the application time for this year's entry, and it ends up being a wash.

On the way to the taxi rank, Morpeko pops out to steal her free doughnut and her new hat goes flying in the scuffle, causing them both to dive after it. Brushing it off, Marnie marvels at the fact that the stitches in her hour-long amateur piece have held up through the whole month, and-

She lifts a hand to her choker, the twin of her bro's, the twice-replaced ribbon fraying at the edges from the abuse it went through during the Challenge. She thinks, _Oh_.

Morpeko takes back her hat, they hail a taxi for the trip home, and Marnie digs out her phone to start making calls. First to Piers, who finally fills her in on the excitement of the day (and makes her wish that Grimmsnarl really had wrecked those two jerks when she ran into them); then to the League department that gave her their number at the open day, who confirm that the Gym Leader student support isn't unique to Hammerlocke University; and finally to Spikemuth High School, where her art, practical crafts and languages teachers agree to provide her with references.

Then, when she gets dropped off in Spikemuth, she emails the Jetsetter office and asks them if they'd be willing to accept her on a part-time basis for their fashion design apprenticeship. They consent (thank Arceus) and she takes the time to put together an application, sending it off as soon as the references come in from the school.

While waiting for a reply, she checks in with the grunts and their brainstorming bonanza. Ivy suggests a stealth challenge to go with the "darkness" theme; Branwen speaks for Team Backflips and advocates a streetwide obstacle course; Chris has no good ideas, but volunteers his gang of Mr. Mime for the cause. They've got time to try stuff out, and the psychic walls mean that they don't even have to buy construction materials.

Gloria shows up for a friendly rematch while Marnie is supervising the construction of a prototype, mostly-invisible rooftop assault track. She beats Marnie's improved team into the ground, no Dynamax or world-ending stakes involved, and hands off her invitation to the Champion Tournament in the last week of May while she's at it. Nice.

She's texting Gloria about ideas for her Champion outfit and a possible dress-up session in the week before the tournament - gotta build the brand early, and this'll be her official debut - when Marnie's bro yells up the stairs to tell her that mail with her name on it showed up.

The envelope's thin and brown, official-looking but lacking the plastic window of most government and League paperwork. Piers hands it to her and wanders off; it feels too light in her grip. She lingers in the hallway, frozen, until Morpeko comes to investigate the holdup and tugs her hair until she pulls the letter out.

As it turns out, Jetsetter liked her. She'll be working standard part-time hours for most of the year, which means it'll take longer than normal to earn the final qualification. Provided Marnie keeps up with the other apprentices, they're comfortable with the special circumstances surrounding the six-month Challenge season, and she'll be able to take extra time off to focus on her Gym during peak times.

In short: she got accepted.

Piers is utterly thrilled when he finds out that his baby sister scored a local apprenticeship. They go up to Circhester to grab the best food they can find, trawling through the white streets until the cakes in Northern Delights catch her eye. They buy the biggest one they can afford and haul it home for a party, and it's in that moment (almost-clear blue skies, Morpeko's familiar weight on her shoulder and the warmth of her bro's hand in hers as she pulls him forward) that Marnie _knows_ that this is the future she wants to bring to life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After I hammered this out (and it ended up being much longer than expected) it turned out that Marnie's war against tertiary education isn't the only story worth telling here. There's WAY more where this came from: next up, Ballonlea's newest Gym Leader deals with the trials of his position.


	2. Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bede adjusts to his new job description.

The drama in Wyndon and Hammerlocke doesn't affect Bede's schedule, really. After his unsuccessful attempt to escape Ms. Opal's clutches, he resigns himself to a future as Galar's Fairy-type Gym Leader and returns to boot camp:

0600: Wake up for an omelette breakfast with Ms. Opal at "dawn", which is an entirely arbitrary value in sunless Ballonlea designed solely to make Bede suffer.

0630: Run through the Tangle for an hour with his entire team, dodging Morgrem and tree roots all the way. Rapidash loves it, poor Hatterene distinctly does not.

0730: Devote the rest of the morning to quizzes on Fairy-type training, care and biology while his Pokémon undergo individual training, except for...

1100: Elevenses, which consists of various local - and often suspiciously-coloured - mushroom teas enjoyed in blessed silence.

1230: A social luncheon with Ms. Opal and his Gym Trainers in the stadium, something that is apparently a long-held tradition. Their personal and Gym Pokémon are also included in the meal; Mawile has yet to stop trying to eat Aromatisse and Swirlix.

1400: Battle training, where he only gets to leave after soundly beating Annette, Theodora and Teresa thrice each in Ms. Opal's "quiz fights". Being beaned in the face with X-items got old fast, but his record is improving by the week.

After battle training is normally when Bede would observe the challengers coming through the Gym, since Ms. Opal technically couldn't cede power to him until after the Champion Cup. But now the end has come, and he is _officially_ in charge of Ballonlea Stadium. 

Joy. 

So instead, Bede gets freedom. By April he has his record down to one hour and twenty-two minutes, leaving him with plenty of time to put on more casual wear and attend to personal affairs before dinner. Sometimes he relaxes with his team and makes sure that Reuniclus and Gothitelle don't feel shafted by the newcomers; sometimes he takes walks through his new town and familiarises himself with the locale.

Usually, however, he ends up caring for the Eevee whose egg Ms. Opal bestowed upon him after his kidnapping in January, claiming that looking after a baby would "teach him a lesson in pink". Or something like that.

Eevee is demanding, self-centered and _loud_ above all else - Hatterene had to be removed from the babysitting rotation due to being unable to handle the intensity of her cries. Teresa informed him after a particularly brutal tantrum that an unstable temperament is typical of young children, though, and so he endures.

Gothitelle and Reuniclus, granted more free time than the rest of his Pokémon due to their non-Fairy typing, prove crucial in solving this. Between her lack of tolerance for nonsense and his endless supply of affection, they spend hours teaching Eevee about proper conduct and the care involved in successful interpersonal relationships. Their work pays off: eventually, during the chaos of March, she and Hatterene are capable of having lunch together without a noise-based disaster occurring. (Bede's eardrums are relieved.)

Ms. Opal was very clear when she established that Eevee's care and education was the sole responsibility of Bede and his team, so she ends up directly incorporated into their routine once she's capable of behaving herself. The end of the Challenge only provided them with more time to train, and the decision to work harder than ever is unanimous among the seven of them. 

Eevee is delighted to be swept up in their fervour, being passed from teammate to teammate during personal training and observing a wide variety of techniques: psychic shields from Reuniclus and elemental attacks from Gardevoir, subterfuge from Mawile and evasion from Rapidash. 

She takes to combat like a Cramorant to water, as is expected from all members of a Gym Leader's team. The matter of her evolution is a non-issue for now, but Bede researches nonetheless and sets aside a fund for any items that may be required to facilitate it in the future.

At other times, when she is unwilling to be a good student, Bede allows her to accompany him on his afternoon errands. The official handover was accompanied by an absurd amount of paperwork, and there turns out to be a certain amount of peace garnered from having an Eevee nap on your lap as you try to work out the specifics of how to approach your inherited sponsor and ensure that their support continues on into the future.

Which is another problem that Bede has to deal with, and it's the _worst_.

As a fabric and clothing manufacturer responsible for several new innovations over the last decade, HIJIKI OKA's funding has been integral to Ballonlea Stadium's success, but Ms. Opal's setup required very little money aside from stadium upkeep and paying for the X-items. In addition, Bede's disqualification left him with a bad reputation that was only barely restored by the dramatics in the finals, and the CEO has misgivings as to whether his company will be negatively affected by a partnership with such a character.

Actions have consequences. If nothing else, Bede has learned to accept that. It's not like he can magically get rid of all his mistakes, so he doesn't bother to try; he tells Marnie something similar, when she comes in need of support, and in exchange she informs him of his growth. Which, yes. The hateful, desperate challenger of his past feels like a reflection in a broken mirror, fractured and unreal, and Bede isn't sure how to approach it.

* * *

The best and worst feature of Wyndon is the sheer size of it all. On one hand, anonymity is much easier to come by than it would be in a smaller town like Ballonlea or Spikemuth; on the other hand, it makes finding unknown locations irrationally difficult. 

During negotiations, the CEO invited Bede to visit HIJIKI OKA's bricks-and-mortar offices - they had been making overtures towards more "adorable" clothing lines, recently, and Jacobs thought that his Fairy-types would make excellent models. But Galarian conservation laws meant that the offices and associated factory couldn't be built in Ballonlea itself to preserve the historical shape of the town, so he decided on Wyndon instead.

And then Jacobs' secretary neglected to give Bede accurate directions for their appointment in the last week of April (as some sort of posturing? An attempt to gain the upper hand? Who knows) because _apparently_ , he should be able to easily locate them online, as their success granted them an excellent business location in the heart of Galar's largest city.

It was not easy.

With two hours to go until the meeting, Bede swings around a corner into the next prospective street his old phone's awful GPS had sent him down, utterly fails to perceive the oncoming pile of luggage as an obstacle and slams straight into it, rebounding and tumbling to the ground with a horribly-undignified squawk.

Gothitelle, physically two steps behind him but mentally much further ahead, catches all the boxes at risk of tumbling onto the road or onto Bede himself. As she glides around the corner, eyes radiant with telekinetic blue, an improbably-large stack of hats spill out of one of the cases she missed and scatter across the warm pavement.

The boy he inadvertently ran over groans and sits up, shoving a bag off his chest as a Boltund offers his body in support and a suspiciously-familiar Cinderace runs up with yet more items-

Wait.

"You need to watch where you're..." The boy trails off, shifting an old, oversized baseball cap up and away from his eyes to get a better view of his assailant. "Hang on. Bede?" The approaching Cinderace _snarls_ around an armful of boxes when he hears the name, shoving forwards through the rapidly-gathering crowd to watch Hop's back.

Bede tenses, clamping a hand around Mawile's ball to make sure that she doesn't appear and escalate the situation, and takes in the audience as he stumbles to his feet in the most graceful way possible. "Um, yes. But we really shouldn't have this out in public, so-"

_'We would be happy to assist you with your load, in recompense.'_ Gothitelle unceremoniously dumps two of Hop's boxes into Bede's arms, forcing him to scramble to properly catch them as he whips around to glare at her. Doesn't she remember that they're on a schedule? Gothitelle inclines her head, as serene as ever, and hands off most of the rest after Hop gets up.

He blinks, looking between Bede and his traitorous teammate. "I mean, okay? You don't have to, we can manage-"

"It's fine," Bede interrupts, plastering on a media smile as he attempts to project his indignation towards Gothitelle (and maybe even succeeds, judging by the faintest breath of a laugh he hears from behind him). "These seem rather heavy, anyway - it's impressive that you managed to get them this far on your own."

Hop squints at him, Cinderace bristling embers at his shoulder, and nods. "If you're sure, then. C'mon, this way." He pushes past and continues down the street, Boltund trotting at his heels. 

Bede casts a final dirty look in Gothitelle's direction and follows Hop away from his target zone and into the riverbank residential district. Despite the city's noise, the silence is brutal. Cinderace glares at them both over his shoulder, sparks crackling in his footsteps; Boltund glances back and forth with a creased brow, the bag in his mouth swinging wildly with every move; their Trainer makes a visible effort to stay focused, shoulders tight and eyes forward as he leads their awkward procession through the streets.

He doesn't remember the Boltund from their battle or the Cup, but it isn't unreasonable to think that Hop might have attempted to diversify after Bede crushed him in the Wild Area - regardless, it evidently doesn't know of his reputation. Cinderace, on the other hand...

Back in December, Raboot had been a particularly furious opponent. Not a _competent_ one, by any means: Gothita's Rock Tomb had easily obliterated him, but he lasted a few seconds longer than Wooloo and Corvisquire. He had needed to be forcibly dragged away after the battle, attempting to continue past the limits of his endurance; when they passed each other in Stow-on-Side, a few days before Bede's disqualification, Raboot had lunged for him on sight and was only dissuaded by Duosion's hasty Reflect and Hop's unwillingness to pick another doomed fight.

His evolution must have taught him to curb his temper. By some miracle, they make it to their destination with no attempted assault involved: an apartment block within walking distance of Rose Tower. Considering the participants, the location and the concentration of hats-

"Is this all that the former Champion has to his name, now?" Bede asks, observing the luggage as Cinderace prattles into the buzzer. "I would have thought that his salary would allow for more distinguished accommodations."

Hop shifts on his feet, his gaze drilling a hole in the door. "It's what Lee wanted."

"Really? I suppose that the unobtrusive locale might be desirable, now that he has fallen into failure. But having to rely one someone like yourself for menial tasks must be-"

"What is your _problem_ , Bede?"

Hop drops his cargo and stomps towards him, brow furrowed and arms folded tight. The small cul-de-sac is empty aside from them, Gothitelle and Boltund (one a neutral observer, the other visibly worried). Thankfully, Cinderace seems to have disappeared into the building at some point in the last few minutes.

Bede actually has to back up a few steps to prevent him from invading his personal space. "Excuse me?"

"I mean, I get it! You don't like me! You're not exactly subtle about it," Hop retorts with a scowl. "What I don't understand is _why_. I know you can be kinda decent, I saw your match in the finals, but every time we've met you've gone out of your way to make absolutely sure that I know how worthless I am." He snorts. "Believe me, I don't need help with that."

Which is...definitely a familiar sentiment. "I-"

"Nope, still going, I'm gonna finish and then you can talk." Hop cuts him off, taking another step forward to really get in Bede's face. 

"I heard about what happened in Stow-on-Side - everyone did, really, Snorlax even saw it in a tabloid once - and Gloria showed me the League Card you gave her, the one with your tragic backstory on it. I thought you didn't do autographs?" 

She did _what_? That little- "Don't make that face, it's public information. Anyway, I'm not an idiot, I know your issues are none of my business, but I'd really like it if you'd stop making me your punching bag, yeah? Marnie and Gloria like you for some reason, so I figured I'd have to at least try to tolerate you, but you're making it dead hard to do that."

Hop pauses, taking a deep breath. "Alright, done now. What were you saying?"

Silence falls. As Bede struggles for words, Gothitelle catches his eye from the sidelines; she nods to him, slow and measured, and he feels the weight of time in her eyes. Weirdly, it helps.

Bede is the Ballonlea Gym Leader, a role model for the Galar region. The least he can do is act like it.

"I...do recognise that my actions in the past have been reprehensible at best," he begins, staring down at his clenched fists. "Even setting aside those not affecting you personally, I had no right to deride your relationship with the former Champion in the manner that I did. My insults were chosen to shame you into dropping out; it was an underhanded method of attaining victory, and one I should not have attempted."

Bede remains convinced he was justified in certain other aspects, namely that Hop was and possibly still is disgustingly externally-reliant, but there is a time and a place. (He _hates_ diplomacy. The old lady better be happy with him after this.)

He hadn't truly met Marnie until after Ms. Opal kidnapped him. Endorsed by the second-best Gym Leader in Galar, adulated by fans wherever she went; had Bede encountered her in the beginning, during the heights of his devotion, he would likely have burned that bridge before it was ever built.

Gloria doesn't hate him. It's a mystery as to why.

An awkward cough causes Bede to realise that he has been pondering for far too long. Hop stares as he startles, hand jolting to his right wrist to stabilise something that he hasn't worn in months. Habit.

Boltund turns in circles before lying down on the pavement at Hop's feet. A Trevenant and Mr. Rime squeeze through the door and start collecting boxes to transport into the building. Cinderace slips out onto the street and leans back against a wall, narrowed eyes trained on Bede as he balances a pebble on his right foot.

"You know, Lee's been Champion since I was a kid," Hop says, unfolding his arms. "I studied all his matches, watched all his interviews, read all the books he left behind. I thought that if I could be just like him, then I'd be able to beat him. But when it turned out that I couldn't do either..."

Bede can _feel_ his eyebrow ascending. "Is there a point to this?"

"Probably?" Hop shrugs. "After our battle, I benched Wooloo and Corvisquire and started trying out new things, but I think that just mucked up my head even further. And Melony kicked me around like it was nothing, even though I was copying everything I'd seen Lee do!"

He squats down to stroke Boltund's back. "I've been compared to my brother all my life, really. By Mum, by kids at school, by the press. In Circhester, I worked out that I'd been going about it all wrong; I picked one good team and saw them through to the end, no more doubting or trying to be what I'm not. But if I hadn't taken that time to test stuff out, then I don't think I would've gotten better." Hop smiles as Boltund noses into his chest, static crackling at every point of contact.

_'Bede.'_

They both look over as Gothitelle moves towards them, lowering her boxes to the ground. _'Your meeting with Mister Jacobs is in forty minutes. I suggest that we take our leave.'_

Evidently, whatever she was orchestrating with this ridiculous detour has finally come to pass. "Right. I assume you don't require any further assistance?"

"Uh, no, I think we're good," Hop replies. "But if you had the time to help us, then why were you in such a rush?"

"It's none of your business."

Hop snickers and stands up. "Wait, were you lost? Lee gets like that sometimes - didn't you try asking around? The locals tend to know what they're doing."

(No, because he has a reputation to uphold which doesn't involve being seen in public acting like a little lost Wooloo.)

"I'm quite capable of managing on my own," Bede retorts, flicking a hand through his hair. He spins on his heel and strides away, already pulling out his phone in an attempt to reorientate himself, Gothitelle gliding forward to match his pace-

"Hey, jerk!" Hop calls out from behind him. Bede halts and turns with the utmost reluctance to see the street empty of all Pokémon but his own, a white-furred paw holding the door open from inside.

Hop shoves his hands in his pockets, an unnaturally serious set to his face. "Try not to get too hung up on who you used to be. We need to change to get better, you know? If you get all stuck in your head, you're never going to go anywhere."

* * *

If only that advice had come from literally anyone else. Then Bede would be able to concede to it being judicious without feeling like an idiot.

He eventually swallows his pride and resorts to the wisdom of passersby with ten minutes to go until the meeting, hating every second of it. The worst part is that it works like a charm, and it turns out that he passed the correct building at least twice during his search. Fantastic.

He does make it to the company offices on time, though, and now he knows for further events. The preliminary clothes fitting has Bede and his team trying on a variety of merchandise to determine what styles would suit them, which goes relatively smoothly once the employees vacate Mawile and Hatterene's personal space. Jacobs even accounted for Rapidash, who is positively delighted to be included in the impromptu fashion show - the large trapper hat fits perfectly over his mane, and the neat black cloak serves to contrast his pale fur.

Bede's preliminary research revealed that HIJIKI OKA had previously catered to punk fashion, with leather and metal studs dominating their range, and have recently made a move into printed t-shirts that have particularly caught on in north-eastern Galar. The initial designs for this new line, observed over a designer's shoulder as Gardevoir tests the range of movement in a red jacket, are a drastic departure from the company's preestablished consumer base: smooth curves and pleats abound in traditional Fairy-type pinks and blues, though there is one sharp Morgrem design that he thinks Marnie would appreciate.

A risky move, but one that could pay off well in the end. 

But it's only a week after _that_ whole mess that someone infiltrates the stadium, Dynamaxes a cluster of wild Shiinotic and interrupts lunch, so there is little time for metaphorical analysis. Annette and Teresa deal with one together, singing Echoed Voice back and forth at an ear-bleeding pitch; Theodora and Ms. Opal take on another two, Gardevoir's swirling flame and Weezing's toxic smoke providing a distinct advantage.

Bede splits his Pokémon into three teams to deal with the rest, keeping Reuniclus back to Safeguard against Shiinotic's dust - the air is thick with spores despite his best efforts, seeping into Bede's lungs and choking every other word. He yells orders all the same, backing to the edge of the field to keep everyone in sight as they dive into the mass melee.

One: Mawile's Fake Tears have been polished to perfection, causing the enraged Pokémon to falter and setting up for Gothitelle to shred psychic might through its veins.

Two: Rapidash veils himself with protective light as he charges through the toxic spores, Gardevoir's Dazzling Gleam riding in his wake as he plunges a steel-sheathed horn deep into his foe.

Three: Charm is useless here, so Eevee goes on the offensive, her Copycat mimicking Hatterene's blaze and engulfing the last Shiinotic standing in a magical inferno.

The battle is lengthy but easy and wraps up within the hour. In the aftermath, Gloria's little band of heroes have the audacity to be surprised that Ballonlea Stadium could take care of itself - Bede is offended enough to challenge her to a battle and nearly wreck the lobby in the process. Unfortunately, her Corviknight is as vicious as ever and carves a path through his team, only trading off in the face of Hatterene's fire so Inteleon could finish the job.

(Eevee Coveted a Wishing Star off of her opponent in the chaos. She apparently wanted a new plaything, so Bede didn't find it until after the others were returned to the professor. Upon examination, he recognised it as one he "collected" for _that man_ at Oleana's behest. He would ask how he came to be here, but...)

Cleaning the stadium takes a week and an industrial vacuum cleaner, even after pressganging the Shiinotic into helping fix their mess. One of the general Gym Pokémon is a Whimsicott trained for Grassy Terrain that does an excellent job of resurfacing the court, but the stadium isn't sized for six simultaneous Dynamaxes and the stands took heavy damage in the skirmish. A good fifth of the seats need to be hauled out and replaced; the League reimburses them for the cost of replacements but refuses to pay for the removal, so they have to do it themselves.

It's tedious, monotonous work, even with Bede's Psychic-types on hand to lift heavier debris. It grants him time to think.

Despite his best efforts, Bede can discern the shape of Galar's latest crisis from gossip and Ms. Opal's enthusiasm for drama: the overentitled monarchists, the theft at the research lab, the ancient warriors of Galar and their chosen heroes. The Fairy King's Sword is a legend among those of his profession, akin to Xerneas or the Alolan guardian spirits, and they blessed Hop of all people with their power. It's surprising, to say the least.

But Wishing Stars don't appear from thin air. They were excavated from rock, retrieved from deep pools, stolen from unsuspecting Gym Challengers who fell before Bede's team. The lists for the May Champion Tournament are released a few days after the seating replacements arrive (Bede isn't invited to participate, which he does not take personally), and one of the pictures is that of...yes, the green-haired girl with the Eldegoss. Pia, according to the article: he took her Star in Hammerlocke, in December. It was one of the last he obtained.

It may not be the very same one, but a Wishing Star is currently hidden in Eevee's bed. He can't find Pia right now, but he knows exactly where she'll be in three weeks' time. Bede may be unable to get rid of all his mistakes, but he can try to make reparations for some of them.

He broke into Wyndon Stadium once at the height of the Champion Cup, and he can do it again for these lower stakes. Bede digs out the staff uniform Marnie altered to fit him and refuses to think about how this is becoming a trend; he arranges an alibi with long-suffering Theodora and explains the situation to his team.

In the week before the tournament, his preparations made with time to spare, Bede takes Eevee on an outing to Stow-on-Side: she was incredibly disappointed to lose her newest chew toy, and he hopes that a treat will lift her spirits. The market has a sale on silken scarves, sturdy enough to weather competitive battling, and the ivory sheen is blinding after months spent mostly in Ballonlea's shade.

The townsfolk throw strange looks towards Bede, sitting against the sandy crenellations in his full Fairy-type regalia. Eevee makes friends with a Bronzong under Hatterene's careful supervision, squeaking up into its body and giggling incessantly at the returning echoes. 

Up on the ridge, just out of sight, the rubble from the mural Bede destroyed has been cleared away to allow access to the hidden chamber. The gaudy outer covering preserved it against the test of time, and now the protected statues can live on into the future.

Bede stands when his alarm goes off, brushing dust off his clothes and checking the bow's stability. Hatterene moves to his side, quiet and reliable; Eevee ambles over after saying goodbye, reaching up towards him. Bede goes to squat down and meet her halfway as she trills in delight-

And when she leaps into his arms, bright and beautiful with the force of her affection, Eevee's body begins to glow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bede producing a Pokémon that only evolves through the power of love out of nowhere for his post-post-game matches is definitely something I think about a lot, as evidenced by the above. Next up: the Champion Cup semi-finalist looks for a way forward.


	3. Protect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hop tries to make something of himself.

To the shock and surprise of everyone directly involved, the world moves on after the Champion Cup concludes. Marnie goes home to Spikemuth, Mum delays her trip back to Postwick to shout Lee into bedrest, Gloria vanishes under a sea of paperwork as both minor and Champion, and Hop is left with a broken sword and far too much time on his hands.

He ends up sleeping in Gloria's new apartment for a while, taking some time to calm down now that everything is over. After the Darkest Day, standing frozen and powerless beneath Eternatus as Lee lies broken at their feet and the world shreds and space-time folds into itself under the weight of the monster's power-

Yeah. Hop really didn't feel like being alone after all _that_.

Mum has a job, though, so with nothing better to do Hop is relegated to keeping an eye on his hospitalised brother. The hit from Eternatus really did a number on Lee and Charizard both - he didn't pay much attention to the diagnosis for the sake of his sanity, but it was pretty bad.

Lee insists that he's fine, but nobody believes him anymore. Rillaboom had to save him from cracking his head on the locker room floor after his loss, and Aegislash snitched on Charizard and Lee both when they made their second trip to intensive care in three days. The exertion of the Championship match did a real number on their recovery time; the discharge is still planned for the end of April, but they won't be back to full strength until June at the earliest.

Luckily, the rest of Lee's team are pretty much fine after a trip to the Pokémon Center. Hop isn't willing to trust his brother's team to a stranger, so he decides to keep an eye on them himself. It's a bit of a juggling act: after searching Lee's room for his reserves, he is now responsible for _twenty-one_ Pokémon.

One of them is that Wooloo from Route Two.

He seems healthy, with wool as soft and springy as you'd expect - there's no way Lee would neglect one of his Pokémon - but if he hasn't evolved, then Lee can't be using him for battles. Honestly, Hop'd thought that Wooloo'd be released after the lesson was over. Apparently not. 

The Rookidee's still here too, untrained and squeaky. According to the web, Lee actually spends quite a bit of time teaching kids how to throw a Poké Ball properly, so that makes some kind of sense: but surely he'd have more than ten Pokémon if he kept the lot, right? It's weird.

Anyway, wrangling nearly two-dozen Pokémon is a bother and a half. Hop's own group can be chaotic, especially when they're all in one place; Lee's team are stressed due to their Trainer's condition, and it's all Hop can do to try and keep their minds off it. They end up spending loads of time in the Wild Area: places like Axew's Eye and the southern end of the Giant's Seat are relatively human-free, which gets them some privacy.

He lets Lee's team exercise by sparring with the local wild Pokémon, but it's not a foolproof plan. There's only so much experience available from unstructured battling, and Lee's team outstripped the strength levels in the Wild Area a long time ago. Aegislash vouches for Hop (for some reason) and is a great help when it comes to making them listen to someone who isn't their Trainer, but he's only one person and he's no good at keeping people from thinking too hard.

Luckily, Hop isn't alone in this: his Pokémon work out the situation and throw themselves into helping without him needing to ask. They all band together to invent distractions, determined to not let their new friends spiral into boredom-induced anxiety. 

Cinderace and Heatmor teach football to anyone willing, even recruiting wild Pokémon for full-team matches that make Hop glad that there's plenty of water nearby; Sandaconda rustles up a localised sandstorm for Rhyperior and Seismitoad to play in; Toxtricity, Boltund and Dubwool start an impromptu jam session, dragging Rillaboom and Mr. Rime in to play percussion.

They don't all succeed - Corviknight's idea of "helping" is picking fights with everything that moves, forcing Hop to have to rescue him and Lee's enabler of a Haxorus from four different Dynamax Dens in the span of three days - but enough of them do, and the work keeps Hop busy and moving for the first few weeks after the Cup. 

The best part about making sure that other people don't think too hard is that Hop can't think too hard either. But the Pokémon need less attention as Lee's condition improves, and there's a lot of things that Hop _really_ doesn't want to think about right now.

Like Zacian's legendary artefact, wrapped up in spare clothes and hidden at the bottom of his bag.

The battle against Eternatus wasn't Hop's win, really. Zacian and Zamazenta did the bulk of the work, and Gloria was the one to finish it off; even Snorlax's best attacks barely touched it, and he had type advantage on his side! If it'd just been Hop up there, trying to save the world, then he would've failed.

But Gloria was there, too, and together they summoned the legends that defeated the monster, just like in the tapestries. And then she went on to defeat the undefeatable Lee and become the Champion of Galar, just like that. They haven't talked much since then, what with Gloria being busy with her new job and Hop being busy babysitting Lee and his Pokémon. He should really congratulate her, but there's no _time_.

When Lee became the Champion, he had to move to Wyndon to avoid the massive commute. He'd tried to come home regularly, but the visits got further and further apart until Hop barely saw him twice a year (if he was lucky). Now that he'd lost, Lee would probably be home more often. Now that she'd won, Gloria wouldn't be.

There was no winning this, was there?

Anyway, Charizard's better by the twentieth and Lee's up and about a week later. Hop helps him get his gear to his new apartment after Dragapult bans his Trainer from moving everything himself, relegating Hop to courier and Lee to unpacking duty so he doesn't get lost on the trips back and forth.

Bede - of all people! - knocks him flat on the last trip of the day, his Gothitelle forcing him to help move boxes in repayment. It's the most awkward thing Hop's ever done, especially as Cinderace gets closer and closer to setting Bede's fluffy head on fire. Hop sends him inside before giving Bede a piece of his mind, which is probably the only thing that stops a battle breaking out on the spot.

It...doesn't go badly. Hop wouldn't call what Bede did an _apology_ , but hopefully they'll be able to play nice in front of the girls. Once the last load is done, he's back to having nothing to do: everyone is busy but him. In the end, Hop catches a taxi back to Postwick. He might as well sleep in his own bed, if he's going to be lazing around.

(Hop only realises that he didn't tell Gloria he was leaving when he's over Wedgehurst. It doesn't matter, really. It's not like she'll notice he's gone.)

Postwick hasn't changed. Mum cooks enough to feed Hop's army as Dubwool shows Cramorant all his favourite napping spots; Grandad and Snorlax get along famously, since it turns out that they read all the same magazines. Granny supervises Purrloin and Boltund, who declare themselves mortal enemies on sight and hurl insults (presumably) from opposite ends of the couch.

Hop hides away in his room, staring up at the roof and listening to Corviknight and Trevenant wrestling on the pitch. He doesn't quite remember what home felt like, last year, when it was just him and Wooloo and Gloria and the adults. He's pretty sure that it wasn't anything like this.

The noise grinds on him, so Hop starts going out to the Weald to think. The first time, he gets all of an hour, sitting and staring at the rocks where Zacian and Zamazenta used to be, before Dubwool tackles him and drags him home to face his team's worry. After that, he brings them with him; they stay in their balls to give him peace, but he can feel their weight on his belt all the same.

Hop takes the broken sword with him on the second of May, unwrapping it to get a better look. The carvings aren't in any script he's ever seen, and the metal runs a bloody red in the corroded cracks. It looks like it could've been ancient when Hammerlocke Castle was built, a lost artefact for the old kings to discover.

Sometimes, when he's real quiet, he can hear something singing in the wind around the shrine. Maybe, if he were any better at this hero thing, Hop would be able to understand it.

But he's interrupted by Gloria, pounding up the path like there's Impidimp nipping at her heels, and there's no time left for thinking once the weirdos show up.

* * *

Hop suggests going round the back of the Giant's Seat, which worked out for him when hiding Lee's team from the press. For once, Gloria speaks up with her own opinion: she definitely needs the practice disagreeing with people, so they camp out on the ridge above the Lake of Outrage instead.

It's remote, hard to access and full of dangerous wild Pokémon; if there was ever a place to let one-of-a-kind Legendaries get some fresh air, it's here.

"Good call, mate," Hop says, waving his phone. "Turns out that a storm's kicked up around the Seat! We'd be out of luck if you'd let me decide where to camp out."

Gloria bobs her head, a massive cookpot occupying her arms and a golden Gyarados fan clenched between her teeth as she waits for Diggersby to finish setting up the fire pit. After a few minutes, she stops fiddling with the fire break and nods, Gloria taking the chance to start setting up the kit.

For his part, Hop _finally_ manages to get the stupid guy rope to stay on the peg, Dubwool kicking it into proper position when he gets out of the way. He gathers up his Poké Balls and chucks them into the air: they burst open all at once, flaring with ruby light as Hop scrambles to catch them.

"Are you gonna let your team out too?" he asks, Snorlax passing out on the spot and Corviknight screeching a challenge towards the heavens.

Gloria shoves the pot into position. "Sure. Guys?" She taps her belt, and the balls hanging there flash in unison. Her Corviknight lunges for Hop's before she even finishes materialising, Inteleon slapping a hand to his forehead as both birds vanish in a cloud of dust and clanging steel. Heatmor snorts and slices a Fire Lash into the melee; they shriek in outrage and bolt straight up into the air, continuing their spar out of range of any interference.

Hop hollers, "Don't go far, Corviknight!" before shaking his head and leaving them to their own devices. He squeezes past Zamazenta's bulk - even lying down in a cuddle pile, both they and Zacian come up to Hop's shoulder - and plops down next to Gloria and the pot, Boltund taking the chance to nuzzle in for pats. 

Alcremie is sharing her Trainer's lap space with an unfamiliar Charmander, working together to get the fire started. Hop nods towards them. "Who's he?"

Gloria blinks, then lets out a faintly worrying snort. " _She_ 's a present from Leon, for winning the Cup. I got her after the weirdos were arrested last week." She rubs Charmander's head, smiling as she leans back into her chest.

Hop leans back, reflexively rubbing the back of his neck. "Right, sorry. I wonder where Lee...hang on."

The whole Char line was stupidly rare in Galar, only really popping up in the deep parts of the Wild Area, and you didn't often find wild ones that young. Also, Lee didn't have a Charmander last month. Hop would know, because he was babysitting his brother's team the whole time-

Aside from Charizard, who got released from the hospital a bit before Lee did and spent his free week training solo in the deep parts of the Wild Area.

Hop drops his head into his hands, groaning. "I am the _worst_ babysitter ever." The familiar weight starts to curdle in his chest, twisting up his guts and dragging his mood down into the dumps.

"It's not your fault," Gloria replies, shaking her head. "You couldn't have known."

"Still! I was supposed to be keeping Lee's team out of trouble, not letting Charizard go off and have a _baby_. No wonder he didn't tell me, the press'd have a field day."

"Hop."

"I can barely keep track of my Pokémon, no wonder I'm rubbish at looking after Lee's-"

"Hop!"

Gloria _never_ yells. Hop reflexively looks around for someone else, but their teams are the only Pokémon in sight: Golurk stares at the horizon from its vantage point atop a massive boulder, and both Toxtricity are strumming away in time with Dubwool's bleating. The distant, all-too-familiar _crack_ of seventy-plus kilos of iron and feathers being tossed into a tree rings out across the field, startling Hop back to the conversation.

Weirdly enough, Gloria looks about as surprised as Hop feels. Charmander's Ember cuts off in favour of staring up at her Trainer; Alcremie sighs and picks up the slack, Mystical Fire heating the broth to the perfect temperature.

"You really need to stop that," Gloria says, eyes flickering between the pot and the ground. "It's not good for you." She pauses. "Help me cook."

Hop blinks. "That's-uh, sure?"

So he helps her cook. He doesn't mind doing it - Hop's spent long enough on the road that it kinda grew on him - but it's not exactly a fun pastime. It is for Gloria though, and it really shows. With all the confidence of someone who's probably tasted every Berry in Galar at one point or another, she dumps in a couple dozen of the things and two entire cartons of coconut milk before getting Alcremie and Charmander to kick the heat up high.

Gloria tosses Hop a ladle and sets about making the rice, poking him with her foot when he stirs too fast and nearly sends the curry flying. It takes about forty minutes all told, during which their battered Corviknights drop in for a landing and Trevenant returns from inspecting the local wildlife. 

Hop and Heatmor are hauling the pot off the fire when Dracovish waddles up from the lake, Cramorant and Inteleon in tow. Gloria abandons the rice in favour of checking on her Pokémon, fussing with their helmet when they lean down in search of cuddles.

"Did you ever get around to telling the cops about that scientist lady?" Hop asks, digging out crockery to stick the food in. He remembers Gloria mentioning it in Stow-on-Side, as mad as she ever gets. From a biological standpoint, Dracovish shouldn't exist: the helmet lets them breathe, but it's a miracle that their other internal organs even function.

What about the ones who weren't as lucky?

Gloria's silence is telling. "You probably should, you know. I read once that there's rules about what you can do to fossils, especially when it comes to reviving them - just because they're not alive yet doesn't mean the ethics laws don't apply."

Still nothing. Well, it was worth a shot. Inteleon, Cinderace, Cramorant and Snorlax take double portions, so Hop dishes those out first and deals with everyone else after. He _thinks_ Gloria used mostly neutral Berries, which works well when they all have different flavour preferences, and the coconut curry is one of her more edible experiments. (The time she tossed an entire fish supper into the mix was...yeah.)

It's a nice feeling, sandwiched between his second starter and his best friend with a roaring campfire in front and the night's first stars above them. Snorlax gobbled his meal in minutes and is currently trying to steal some of Sandaconda's; Pincurchin parked herself on one of Golurk's massive legs, letting off delighted sparks with every bite.

Gloria puts her cleaned plate aside a few minutes after Hop does, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "You're Naughty."

Um. "Excuse me?" Cinderace barks a laugh from Hop's other side, which doesn't help in the slightest.

"Or Rash, maybe," she continues, tilting her head. "Like the Pokémon natures? I saw it in a personality quiz once."

Riiight. "You read magazines?"

"No," Gloria replies, "but I remember how it works. You're good in a fight, but you can't take mental attacks. Also, you hate bitter food."

That doesn't confuse him any less. "Are you still mad about that time on the train to Wyndon? Because that was more down to you putting toast in curry, mate, not the Aguav Berries."

She shakes her head, staring into the flames. "Do you still believe that you'll never amount to anything?"

Hop stiffens up and drops his eyes to his plate, stained yellow with the remnants of the curry. "I don't think I said it like that."

"You said that you didn't see anything great in yourself. In Wyndon Stadium, and at the shrine," Gloria states.

Across the circle, Zacian looks up at Hop, muzzle splattered with sticky rice. They huff and return to their meal after a moment, nudging Cramorant's greedy beak away. "You should, you know. You saved the world."

"Not really," Hop mumbles. "That was all Zacian and Zamazenta, you know that. I'd have been out of luck if you all didn't show up to help."

"And?" Gloria grabs his shoulder and pulls until Hop turns to look at her, tension vibrating through her frame. "The sword wouldn't have reacted in Leon's hands. Sonia wouldn't have been able to calm Zacian down. I would be dead if you didn't help me fight Eternatus, Hop."

"But you're-"

"And so are you. Whatever you're thinking, it applies to you too," she retorts, before letting go and jerking away. On Gloria's other side, Inteleon reaches up to rub her shoulder through a calming breath or two.

That was the longest statement Gloria's ever made in his earshot, which means she absolutely meant it. Hop shifts towards Cinderace to give her some space, twisting his hands in his lap. What was he going to say?

Gloria is amazing, the best Trainer he's ever known. She works so well with her team, it's like they've known each other all their lives as opposed to just the last eight months. She captured two Legendary Pokémon, one of which now fights for her. 

She's a hero.

Hop can see the point that Gloria's trying to make. Really. He's super proud of her for telling him off in the first place; she's always had problems with saying no to people, but the Championship must've been a real confidence booster.

He's just not sure she's right, that's all.

Dubwool kicks Diggersby in the shins to stop her from nailing Gloria's Corviknight with a leftover spoonful of sauce; Alcremie daubs Trevenant's bark with artful swirls of cream, Charmander observing from Heatmor's lap. The noble warriors of Galar seem utterly baffled by the concept of a mirror ball, Zamazenta awkwardly pawing at it when Hop's gleeful Toxtricity rolls it towards them.

A Gloria-shaped weight flops into his side, leaning her head on his shoulder when he reaches up to catch her out of habit. "You trust me, right?" she asks, half-muffled by Hop's coat. 

"What-yeah, of course I do! What made you think otherwise?" He tries to look down at her face, but Gloria's short enough that he can't without accidentally knocking her off.

"You don't trust me to tell the truth about what I think of you."

Ouch. "That's because..." Hop trails off, trying to think of a rebuttal. "It's not that I don't trust you, mate. I do, really, it's just-" 

Cinderace is chatting to Boltund, and Inteleon's busy helping Dracovish eat; they're both pointedly ignoring their Trainers, and Hop couldn't be more grateful. Honesty's hard enough without an audience.

He sighs. "I don't want you to be disappointed, you know? If it turns out that I'm really not as great as you and everyone else think I am. I said that I wanted to help Pokémon, doing the Professor thing, but what if it turns out that I'm rubbish at that, too?"

Silence falls, and Hop can _feel_ Gloria side-eyeing him. Her Toxtricity starts to scream out a Boomburst, trying to get Snorlax to stop eating her tail; Golurk leans over and muffles her with one enormous hand, the energy dissipating harmlessly against its palm.

Eventually, Gloria pipes up, her shoulders going tight under Hop's arm. "I think it is Rash, actually. Good at dealing mental attacks."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

She lightly thwacks him in the gut, continuing before he can complain. "The only danger here is in your head, Hop. You should try to protect yourself from it, first, before worrying about other people."

* * *

Hop knows that he's never been great at thinking highly of himself. He gives it a try, though, for his best friend's sake - and in the meantime, there's studying to be done.

Becoming a Pokémon Professor is a pretty hard thing to do: you need a doctorate (at minimum!) in whatever field you decide to specialise in and a ton of practical experience before being officially recognised. Not to mention the research funding and the space to set up a lab and a personal goal that doesn't steal anyone else's idea...

It's a lot, is what he's saying. Luckily, Hop is still fifteen years old and starting his fourth year of high school, so he doesn't have to worry about any of that for a while.

It's a bit weird to think about it that way, despite it being the standard path for most people. Gloria, Marnie and Bede'll be going onto alternate education tracks, the same way Lee did when he won, but Hop's just doing it like a normal person instead.

He doesn't mind much; Wedgehurst High is a pretty good school, as those things go. His course selection form arrives on the fourteenth, so he sits down with Mum and tries to work out what to do.

Maths and Galarian are mandatory at National Five level, so Hop doesn't have much of a choice there. That leaves him with six spaces to fill: he's always been good at the sciences, so he goes for the three of them to keep his options open for later.

Aside from that...Hop's rubbish at artsy things and Toxtricity is forever offended by his lack of musical talent, so they're out. Wedgehurst's far enough south that they offer Crown Galarian as a full course, and Hop did okay at that in primary school; Granny hurls insults in it when she gets _really_ mad, so she'd probably be able to help him with the homework.

Hop isn't amazing at history, but he's not rubbish at it either, and recent events have definitely proven how important knowing the past can be. There's nothing else that really interests him on the subject sheet, so figures that he might as well go for it.

And Sonia, as it turns out, can sign off on an official work placement at her lab as his last choice. He already said that he'd work as her assistant, so this is really just another step towards that: there's a load of forms and such confirming health and safety, but it only takes about a week to get them all sent off.

The rosters for the May Champion Tournament are released while Hop's busy categorising Wishing Stars a few days later, so he doesn't find out until Snorlax waves the paper in his face. Marnie's in, Gloria's (obviously) in, Dunne's in, Bede's not. Huh.

Hop's not in either, but he didn't really want to be. The top twenty Gym Challengers from each season receive open invites to compete in the Champion Tournaments for the whole of the next year, and he's busy enough without having to get his Pokémon ready for a big event. There'll be other chances, for sure.

He wonders if the League'd allow him to use Zacian in an official match. _That_ might be fun.

In the week before the tournament, Hop heads out to the Weald for a think. He sits on the steps of the shrine and stares up at the arch, pillars veined with ivy and discs cracked and broken. The legendary sword of Galar quietly pops out of their ball, lying down for a nap on the site of their grave.

The tapestry in Circhester had been ruined, ripped at the bottom and scarred with scorch marks. He'd wondered, back then, if it'd been deliberate; if someone had gone to the trouble of hiding the true ending of the tale, to make the old kings seem greater than they really were.

It was weird. He'd no idea why - the heroes' faces were as neutral as they'd appeared in all the other depictions - but Hop could _feel_ the grief in their eyes, standing vigil over the price of their victory. He couldn't explain why for the life of him, but they'd seemed...lost, almost. Like they hadn't expected to end up where they were. Peasants to kings.

Maybe all the heroes in the world were like him, in the end. Just trying to find a way through, one step at a time.

After a while, Hop needs to leave. He promised Lee that he'd come up to Wyndon early and see the new Battle Tower, after all. Zacian ambles at his heels as they head back along the trail, jaw yawning wide after their abrupt awakening; when he arrives at the station, fully packed for the trip, his brother hugs him hello.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent far too much time on Bulbapedia when I was trying to get Gloria's ridiculous Nature metaphor right, but I do think it was worth it for the sheer entertainment value I got from writing those lines. Next up: Galar's newest champion struggles to write her own story.


	4. Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gloria attempts to assert herself.

As it turns out, winning the Cup and becoming the Champion involves paperwork. Tons of it. The process has been streamlined over the years due to the temporary nature of the position, but it still takes the entire first three weeks of April to get through it all.

Oh, and Gloria has a house now.

It makes sense, really. Leon definitely didn't live in Postwick when she was growing up. He came back for visits, according to Hop, but the commute to Wyndon was far too long for anyone to reasonably manage. 

That doesn't make it less weird, getting to see an otherwise-nondescript terrace house filled with more hats than any one person could reasonably wear. Leon is back in the hospital despite his best efforts to be up and about, so he won't be around to move his stuff until he gets discharged. He said that Gloria and Hop could stay there instead of the Rose, though, so they do.

The whole situation feels bizarrely familiar: sleepovers were so regular as to not even be an event back home. Hop's parents' sensibilities, though, meant Gloria couldn't sleep in his room in hopes of avoiding any perceived "funny business". 

(Not that it stopped Hop and Wooloo dragging her downstairs for midnight snacks and cuddle piles on the couch, that is, but that's not the point.)

Leon's too-big bed had been a staple of her childhood, and his room had always felt vaguely impersonal. He was barely ever home, so the sheets never smelled weird; the hats and books were veiled in a thin layer of dust.

Maybe that's why it hits her so hard the first time she stays there, the night after her win, lying awake at three in the morning in a maybe-familiar bed with her best friend snoring up a storm in a sleeping bag on the floor. 

She's the Champion, and she has a house in the biggest city in Galar. When she went to the Wyndon Pokémon Center to get her team healed up, the staff members knew her name. _Gloria's_ going to be the one home so infrequently that her bed is used as a guest room, now.

She summoned a legend to defeat a monster, and in that moment (shrouded in crimson darkness with a corroded shield in her hands, Leon and Charizard bloodied and silent at their feet) it felt like everything she was had been made to lead up to this.

Speaking of which, the god-Pokémon who nearly destroyed the region is in her backpack - in a Timer Ball, the only one she has - because she doesn't trust the Box system with something so dangerous. Gloria doesn't have strong opinions, really, but she did have this one: she could use Eternatus against Leon and nigh-guarantee her win.

(Later, after they hear his and Charizard's diagnosis, Gloria is trying to make Hop breathe through one of the worst panic attacks of their lives and she feels like the scum of the earth.)

It's a weird thought to have, because she was never _invested_ in the Challenge the way Hop and Bede and Marnie were. Galarian tradition states that teenagers can take time out of high school to go on their Journey and grow as people, usually between third and fourth year, so she did. 

She figured that she'd make it through four or five Gyms if she was lucky, maybe three if she wasn't. She'd catch a few Pokémon, bow out quietly after failing a Gym, cheer on her best friend when he inevitably made it to the Champion Cup, go back to school having learned something about herself. Maybe.

But Hop wanted a rival, a real one, so Gloria obliged: trained up the Rookiedee she caught mostly by accident, got to know the Sobble she picked at random, and beat him into the ground. And then did it again, and again, and again, until all of a sudden they were standing on opposite sides of Wyndon Stadium and the crowd knew their names.

Anyway, there's a job that needs doing. The drama with the Darkest Day only adds to the work that needs to be done, what with Gloria now technically owning the weapon of mass destruction in her backpack, so the League committee keeps her busy from dawn to dusk.

They give her a new uniform, similar to Leon's but minus the cape and hat; they introduce her to her chaperone, a sharp-eyed woman named Heather whose job is to supervise her during work and meetings with the League; they explain to her the nature of the monthly tournaments that she will be hosting with their assistance. There's lessons on sponsorship and stipend agreements and performance licence applications and-

It's a lot to deal with.

Life goes on outside of her little bubble of bureaucracy. Oleana is working in the mines when Gloria sneaks off to exercise her Pokémon, and she thanks her for foiling the chairman's plan. Leon shows up to retrieve his stuff; he's doing much better now that he's stopped running around with a concussion and four broken ribs, and he tells her to swing by Rose Tower (which he now owns, apparently?) sometime next month. 

Hop leaves, sometime after his brother moves out. Gloria doesn't notice until she asks an empty apartment what it wants for dinner and the silence fails to respond.

The end-of-April tournament is always cancelled when the Championship changes hands in order to allow for an adjustment period, so she's finally granted leave to go home on the first weekend of May. Postwick hasn't changed: Mum is delighted to see her and nearly crushes her in a hug, Munchlax mistakes Alcremie's decorations for Oran Berries, and her room is veiled in a thin layer of dust.

The next day, Gloria is woken up by a screaming nightmare and hears singing on the wind. It leads her all the way to the shrine in the Slumbering Weald, near-empty in the silence of the dawn. Hop tries and fails to beat her, Sonia hands her a history book, and then the morning goes to hell. 

Gyms explode with crimson darkness that she is asked to help contain; Bede saves them time that he promptly uses to confront her; the grand shield of legend chooses her, again, after Golurk punches them into submission. It's a long day, and Gloria faceplants onto her bed at the first opportunity. Her team leave her alone, Inteleon and Alcremie shooing the others out into the garden.

Sonia said that she'd earned the right to be proud of her achievements. Hop thought that she'd been following her own path. Shielbert called her a celebrity, the reigning queen of Galar: someone who can do whatever they want.

But what _does_ Gloria want?

(Aside from a nap. It's been a _long_ day.)

Even setting that aside, Leon's win streak was an anomaly: regardless of how she does over the year's exhibition battles, Gloria is the Champion of Galar until she loses in an official tournament. She's _good_ , and her team would never let her throw a match on purpose - Corviknight in particular would never forgive the attempt - so she's probably in this for the long haul.

It's not a bad thing, necessarily. Competitive battling is fun, and it helps her connect to her Pokémon. There are worse ways to pass the time, and who knows? The job might end up growing on her.

But the Champion can't be apathetic, or directionless, or a pushover. Gloria is a role model for the Galar region, held up as the pinnacle of strength and prowess. The others might have wanted it more, but she's the one who won in the end. Now, she has to act like she deserved it.

(She doesn't think about her nightmare, or the monster in her backpack, or the way history tends to repeat itself.)

Sixteen hours, a bit of brainstorming and one gigantic nap later, she drags herself up and out of her room. Lunch is chilli-stuffed peppers and a side of Sitrus salad, with ice cream for dessert - coffee has been banned from the menu ever since Toxtricity discovered it, so Mum has her cup in the kitchen to avoid any thievery.

Meanwhile, Gloria is sent to the shops to get groceries. Golurk whirs into motion and follows her, the grinding of its joints echoing her every footstep; she stays close as they reach Wedgehurst, its intimidating bulk and inexorable march forcing the evening crowds to keep their distance.

It reminds her of when they'd met, almost. Golurk had been nothing more than a moss-covered statue inside the Watchtower Ruins, until Gloria'd run in to take cover from a sandstorm. When she left, it had followed her: immune to Corvisquire's attempts to drive it off, dogging their footsteps all the way to Hammerlocke. 

She'd caught it, eventually. It had basically forced her to, retrieving a Ultra Ball someone had abandoned and rolling it towards her feet. In the end, Gloria was glad that Golurk'd come along. It was nice to know that there was someone whose faith in you was implacable, even if it was kinda terrifying.

After dropping the produce off at the house, she flies back to Wyndon - it's an early start tomorrow, so leaving the commute until the last minute is probably a bad idea. On the way, Gloria calls Hop and asks him if he wants to go camping next weekend. He agrees, which is step one complete.

Step two is a little harder: now that her one-month grace period is over, Gloria's duties as Champion begin in earnest. The Champion Tournament in May will be her public debut, and the planning and training packs her schedule to the brim.

But the knowledge that she's already confirmed plans with someone acts as a mental bulwark, of sorts; Ms. Heather's omnipresence ends up being vaguely comforting, once it's explained that her job is basically to ensure that the League isn't exploiting minors.

It takes twenty minutes and far more stress than any one meeting has any right to, but Gloria manages to remove all League obligations from the twenty-four hours between noon on the eighth of May and the same time on the ninth. Step two complete!

She visits the Battle Tower on the sixth, where Leon is utterly determined to have the facilities up and running by June, and comes home with a Charmander who can't be more than a few weeks old. It raises some questions about where Leon got her, but it's also very much not important at the moment.

Hop thinks that it's important, though, and he works out what Gloria had only speculated about within minutes - he's smart like that - when they meet up in the Wild Area. He, predictably, freaks out about it, giving her the chance to completely flub the assertions she had practiced and, predictably, resort to cooking and weird metaphors to get her point across.

Gloria _thinks_ that it worked? Hop's been her best friend for over a decade and he knows all about her problem, so she figured he'd be an easier starting point than the League. It feels nice, getting her opinions out into the world, even if it's a bit like pulling teeth.

What's less nice is step four, resumed after the intermission: taking a hand in planning her debut. 

(Step four is expected to be much harder than the first three. But she _has_ to do this. There's more than just her reputation as a Champion at stake.)

Thankfully, the League agrees - after half an hour and one narrowly-avoided panic attack - to let Gloria take the lead on a few of the less technical aspects of the tournament: the roster, the invites and her uniform.

Invites aren't that hard, as it turns out. The rules state that, aside from the Champion, competitors are chosen from a pool consisting of the major league Leaders and top twenty Challenge participants from the previous season. She picks half of each, for simplicity's sake; Gloria's handwriting is alright, so she makes a point of personally writing and delivering them over the course of a week.

The acceptances come back quickly, and the pairings are posted a few days later - she's up against Allister first. The Tournament calls for five-Mon teams, so Gloria opts to have Zamazenta sit this one out; she hasn't confirmed whether they're actually allowed to participate, yet, so that can be a problem for Future Gloria.

A problem for Present Gloria, though, is her outfit. She's required to keep the basic shirt-and-shorts uniform, but everything else is up to her. The only problem is, Gloria has no experience in the field and no idea about what looks good together.

Luckily, she has friends that do.

* * *

"At least you're not keepin' Leon's sponsor cape," Marnie says, wrinkling her nose. "I get the symbolism, but it's still ugly."

"Distinctive, though," Gloria replies, sorting through the pile of clothes on the floor. They'd moved into the living room due to Marnie's room being too small, evicting Piers and drawing the blinds to give their dress-up session some privacy. "Isn't that the point?"

"I mean, yeah, but still. No capes, 'Ria!" Marnie complains, absently catching Morpeko by the scruff of her neck when she lunges for Inteleon's sandwich.

Gloria snorts and turns to Inteleon, holding a pink hair ribbon up to the back of her head; he points his thumb at the floor, so she discards it. Marnie contributed some of her own accessories to the pile, but Gloria'll have to buy her own copy if they decide that she's wearing them.

"D'you want to wear your beret?" Marnie asks, tapping her head.

"No. It'd get blown off."

Marnie scrunches her face up at the thought. "I guess it might. No hats at all, then?" She asks, waiting for Gloria to nod before continuing. "Fair enough. Speakin' of heads, are you plannin' on puttin' your mop up?"

Gloria blinks at the question, reflexively tugging at her shoulder-length hair. It's not like she didn't notice it getting longer over the course of the season - the difference is stark, looking at her original League Card - but it never really occurred to her to go to a hairdresser's. Before, Mum had always dealt with it.

Anyway, Marnie's right. "I might cut it. Long hair's impractical for battles."

"It can't be that bad if you've made it this far," Marnie retorts, flipping one of her pigtails over her shoulder. "Besides, you've seen Nessa and Melony. Don't go back to a bob just 'cause you think you have to."

Inteleon whistles into the silence that follows, tossing Gloria a pair of plain black compression tights. They're nice and stretchy, with padding around the heel; the others turn around while she puts them on under her shorts, pulling her knee up to her chest to check the range of movement.

"That's much better than the pinstripes," Marnie asserts, Morpeko squeaking in agreement. "It's a cardinal rule of fashion, 'Ria: black goes well with everything. The League didn't give you shoes, did they?"

Gloria shakes her head. "I was going to wear my uniform trainers."

"What, the red-white ones?"

"Yeah. They're comfy and easy to run in."

Marnie frowns, tapping her cheek. "But they're part of the Challenge uniform. That's not your colour anymore, and besides - why's it so important that the outfit's practical, even down to the hairdo? It's not like you're the one battling."

"In case something happens. Like in the finals," Gloria replies, tilting her head. "I need to be ready to help."

"Like in the-wait, did you _know_ that the Chairman was gonna do that?" Marnie squeaks. Inteleon snaps his head around to stare at her, his tail flicking with nervous energy.

The pause stretches out, long and brittle as an old, near-broken rubber band. Morpeko shifts awkwardly in her Trainer's lap, nibbling at an Oran Berry; Gloria stares into the mirror, watching herself trace the shield on her new uniform. The Champion wears the Galarian emblem as a symbol of their responsibility to the region. As the strongest Trainer, they have to be ready to protect it from any possible danger.

(She doesn't want to think about the corroded shield, or the fifth tapestry, or the Pokémon that chose her. But she also doesn't want to be alone in this, and there _are_ some things that she doesn't ever plan on telling Hop.)

Eventually, Marnie's had enough of the awkwardness. "Gloria-"

"Did you ever read 'Sword and Shield: A Revised History of Galar'?" It's not her best opener ever, but it'll do.

Marnie's reflection blinks. "Uh...d'you mean the book the new professor wrote? I saw some articles synopsisin' it, after that mess on the third."

"Yeah," Gloria replies. "Sonia had me help her with some theories, when she was doing research. In Stow-on-Side, we found out that the hero wasn't just one person: it was two humans and two Pokémon, working together to stop Eternatus."

"I knew that bit," Marnie says, raising an eyebrow. "Is that how you and Hop found the Legendaries?"

If only it was that simple. "Sort of. We followed a Wooloo into the Slumbering Weald, back in September, and got attacked by an illusion shaped like Zamazenta. The way they were looking at me, it was like..."

Gloria shakes her head, pulling at the hem of her shirt. "Anyway. There were these tapestries, in Hammerlocke, showing what happened on the Darkest Day. The star, the storm, the weapons, the coronation-" She taps her chest, the Champion's uniform tailored for a flawless fit. "-and even before anything started happening, the chairman told me about his plan to use Wishing Stars as a power source with the Champion's help."

Now that she's talking, it would be harder to stop than starting ever was. Gloria whips around and drops onto the couch next to Inteleon, squeezing his offered hand in a death grip. "It sounds nuts, but I was looking at all the pictures of the old kings and I felt like I _knew_ them, like I could feel all the pressure they were under to win."

The night before Gloria had met Hop and Sonia at the Weald, she had dreamed that she was in Bob's Your Uncle, alone with the darkened kitchen and the burned tapestry and the locked door. She had turned around after trying to leave and found one of the old kings standing right there, his cloak scorched black in mourning.

His gleaming shield turned bloody and ruined when he forced it into her grip; iron chains connected them at the wrist, rooting her to the spot as he leaned forward and whispered, _"The worst is yet to come."_

And then she woke up, and the day only got worse from there.

In the present, Gloria keeps talking. "I don't know if I was projecting or anything - I guess I might have been - but all these stories were playing out around me, with Bede and you and Hop and everyone else, and all I could do was watch. I didn't really help anyone until right at the end, during the Cup, and that was just following what had been already set out in history. None of it was really _me_ making my own choices."

She heard Marnie shift from where Gloria was firmly not looking at her, instead staring down at her lap. Her throat is getting sore - she's never said this much at once in her _life_. Marnie'd asked a question, right? Something about the chairman...oh. Right.

"I didn't know for sure that the chairman was going to do that. Honest," she says. "But I did have a feeling that something bad was going to happen, and I didn't tell anyone that mattered because I thought I was nuts."

Nobody had died, thankfully. Gloria wouldn't know how to live with herself if they had.

"It always feels like it's not over, and something even worse is about to happen," she mumbles. "So I need to be ready. No matter what."

The room falls as silent as Spikemuth ever gets, a faint musical throbbing permeating the walls and masking the sound of Gloria taking a deep, shuddering breath. Inteleon bumps his shoulder into the side of her head, staying perfectly stoic as she turns his hand into a stress ball.

"'Ria. Gloria, hey!" Marnie calls, waving a pair of laced black boots when Gloria eventually looks up. They look to be the same brand as her brown ones, thick-soled and clompy.

"I got them in Motostoke, on my way to the Wild Area. They're not my style at all, but my normal shoes aren't any good for hikin' through miles of wilderness," she admits, chucking them in Gloria's general direction and watching unrepentantly as she scrambles to catch them. "They're great for grip, and the leather's pretty much invincible; Morpeko's best Bite barely left a scratch."

It all sounds familiar from Gloria's own pair, which lasted her the entire challenge and years beforehand. The borrowed boots feel stiffer and smaller than she's used to - probably down to Marnie herself being smaller - but the black does blend well with the tights. "Couldn't I just wear my normal boots?"

"I guess you could, yeah," Marnie hums, "but the brown wouldn't look nearly as good. Plus, it's a good idea to keep your normal clothes and proper uniform separate. You don't have to worry about scuffin' them up off-duty that way."

Gloria nods, turning back to the mirror. It's not like she doesn't have the money, after all: the League gave her a decent budget for sorting out her uniform, and she's yet to even touch it.

"And about your hair...maybe we could plait it back?" Marnie asks, tapping at her chin. "Grimmsnarl's done it for me before; I don't know where he learned, since I found him in a Den, but it's real useful. Any thoughts?"

Braids. Gloria can honestly say that that never occurred to her as a possible solution, and one that's much less permanent than losing a foot of hair. "Let's try it."

Marnie nods, reaching for her coat. "Alright. Grimmsnarl, get out here." The Pokémon in question bursts out in a shower of light, hissing in evident confusion when he lands on a pile of socks. "You think you can do something cute with 'Ria's hair? Practicality's the priority, though."

Grimmsnarl steps over to get a better look at the back of Gloria's head, staring down Inteleon until he leans back and out of the way. After a moment, he nods firmly, hopping up onto the back of the couch for better access to her hair.

It feels a little weird, having someone other than Mum messing around back there; part of it might be how the braid feels, much more solid than the few times she's put it up while cooking. Inteleon's keeping an eye on him, so Gloria turns back to Marnie. "Thanks for this. Really."

"It's not a problem. Really," she parrots, face entirely deadpan. "We've all got our hang-ups; if you need your outfits to be sensible over stylish, then I can work with that. It's good practice for dealin' with clients, ain't it?"

"I mean it. You didn't have to help."

Marnie huffs, tugging at her pendant. "I wanted to. I can't say that I fully get what you were sayin' - I wasn't really involved with everythin' that went down, and it's been a _weird_ few months - but I know what it's like to be stuck under someone else's legacy. Y'know?"

Golurk likes to pick Gloria up and sit her on its shoulder, but it took until March for it to stop grabbing too high. "Yeah. I know."

Grimmsnarl eventually growls, gesturing towards his Trainer. Marnie tosses him a plain black bobble, the same shade as her nail polish, and he ties the braid off before sliding down onto the couch's arm with a satisfied smirk. 

"So, what do you think?" Marnie asks, as Inteleon gives her a thumbs up. Gloria reaches around to feel his handiwork, flicking her head back and forth: the plait runs down her head to her neck, shortening the total length, and feels tight enough to stay put for days.

"I like it," Gloria replies, fiddling with the end. Morpeko squeaks in tandem with Grimmsnarl's roar of delight, nearly dropping her Roseli Berry when she jumps up into the air.

For her part, Marnie seems hugely satisfied with her reaction. "Good enough for me. Up you get." She drags Gloria off her butt, pushing her in front of the mirror. "I know I'm not one to talk about takin' up space in a room, but you're goin' to need to learn eventually. Come on, look like you actually want to be here."

Gloria tries her best to puff up, mimicking what she'd seen of Leon's stance during the Championship match. Shoulders square, back straight, head held high - it's an effort to hold it, but she manages after a few false starts.

"There you go." Marnie pats her shoulder. "We're on opposite ends of the bracket, next week, so I better see you in the finals! And remember: it's your life, yeah? If you need to fight for control, then _fight_. We'll be here to back you up when you do."

* * *

Like she was saying, it's good to know that there's people out there with faith in you.

With all that done and five days to go until the tournament on the thirtieth, preparation kicks up into high gear and the other competitors begin to trickle in. The League funds hotel rooms for those who need them, and the tourist population of the city grows noticeably higher as the weekend draws nearer.

Gloria spends Friday "training" in one of Wyndon's massive parks, letting her team blow off steam before their big day - she wears sunglasses and a giant hat to try and avoid the public, but still gets buried under two meters of flame-warm fluff before Diggersby intervenes.

The offending Arcanine belongs to Phoebus, who goes to college nearby and is mortified by his overly-friendly Pokémon. They catch up for a bit, and it's actually kinda nice; a reminder that, actually, most people aren't involved in drama or chaos or plots that might destroy the world.

Considering her life so far, it's a reminder that's sorely needed.

When she gets back to her house, one of the many empty shelves is made slightly more full: a glass paperweight in the shape of an Oran Berry now sits there, with an actual Oran flower suspended inside. Phoebus had made it as a practice piece, and insisted that she take it as an apology for Arcanine's behaviour.

The next day, she puts on her uniform and waits while Inteleon plaits her hair back; he fumbles a few steps, much less practiced than Grimmsnarl, but it looks alright in the end. As an afterthought, looking at her new ornament, she grabs her favourite hoodie and puts that on too.

She'd bought it in Hammerlocke for the trip to Stow-on-Side, and somewhere between Spikemuth and Wyndon she stopped switching it out for her knitted coat. Gloria liked the berries-and-leaves motif, already enamoured with cooking after her second trip through the Wild Area; the fit was comfortable and lighter, good for the heat of western Galar.

She hadn't had time to change out of her Challenge uniform after the Darkest Day came, so she'd thrown the hoodie on over the top and worn it to the tower's summit. There was a thick scar on the right sleeve, now, where it had stopped flying debris from tearing a hole in her arm.

The open zipper frames her shirt's sword emblem nicely, despite the clashing designs. Gloria knows, vaguely, that you're not supposed to have lots of different kinds of patterns in one outfit, but it's not like people expect famous Trainers to have good fashion sense.

(Given that Champion Brass refused to wear a top until the uniform system was implemented and Leon definitely put that cape together himself, she almost thinks the League are resigned to it.)

Marnie might be upset that her hard work had gone a bit to waste, but it'll probably just make her battle harder in the tournament; Phoebus might have inspired her, but Gloria still made the decision to go through with it all on her own.

The hoodie kept her safe once, and it's nice to think that it might do so again.

From the kitchen, Corviknight squawks a warning: it's eight o'clock, and they have to be at the stadium for quarter to nine at the latest. Gloria returns most of her team to their balls and grabs her bag, as sturdy as it had been during Mum's Challenge, before slipping out the door and firmly locking it.

It's a brilliant day, cloudless and blue, and Raihan's absence means that it'll hopefully stay that way. They soar into the air, Corviknight's feathers glittering in the sunlight - the airspace is clear and Wyndon Stadium is easy to find, so all she has to do is fly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have so many headcanons about this girl, so it's no wonder that this one nearly broke five thousand words even with me cutting some stuff out for time. (For example: Gloria purposefully didn't invite Bede to the Champion Tournament because she thought him crashing the Cup was hilarious and was hoping that he'd do it again.)
> 
> Anyway, this entry in Exulansis is complete! There may, however, be more to come for this world outside of the confines of the series - I have by no means run out of stories to tell, especially since I haven't even STARTED getting into the DLC stuff. I'd like to thank you all for reading, and I hope you stick around for whatever may be next!

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come and find me on Tumblr under the (very different) name [Acelania](https://acelania.tumblr.com)! I don't bite, promise.


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